Healing Therapy
by straightenmybowtie
Summary: Set after Swan Song, Dean has survived three months without Sam, but can't live without him anymore. Alone and desperate, Cas shows up to help him move on. T rating for now. Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

"Dean, put the gun down."

I honestly didn't expect him to show up at all. But there he was, out of nowhere, like always. I could tell he wasn't looking at me even though I wasn't looking at him. I could always feel his eyes on me, like they were on their hands and knees crawling up and down my face or my body. I could feel that.

I couldn't feel now though. I kept the gun pressed under my chin, the hammer cocked back, and stared at the insides of my eyelids. I saw stars swimming through my vision from squeezing them shut so tight. I didn't want to open them because I knew that if I saw him, I wouldn't be able to go through with it. And I wanted to, I had to. I couldn't survive without Sam.

"Dean," he said again, his voice low. I sighed and lowered the gun.

Let me tell you, suicide wasn't my first decision. I had wanted to move on, start a life, just like Sam had told me to do. And I tried. Well, sort of. I thought about Lisa and Ben and what my life would be like with them. It would be a life without hunting, which was something I had never known. That was what scared me the most: not knowing. And I didn't want to take the risk, I didn't have the strength, not without Sam here.

And Cas had disappeared as soon as Bobby and I were healed. He left that graveyard before Bobby had a chance to blink himself back to life. And worse than living a life without Sam and hunting but with Lisa and Ben, was a life knowing that there were no angels looking out for me.

And this was the first time Cas showed up since then. Three months later. "What the hell are you doing here?" I asked quietly. I was angry at him, of course, but I was more defeated than anything.

There it was. I could feel his eyes on me like before he left. But I still couldn't bring myself to look back at him. "I won't let you do this, Dean. You're work isn't finished here yet."

I groaned. This was the last thing I wanted to hear from him. "I don't have time for this, Cas." I shoved the butt of my gun towards him, staring at the seat the whole time. "Either shoot me or get out of here. I'm not kidding."

There was a soft clinking noise as Cas nudged the empty whiskey bottles at his feet. "Dean, you're not yourself right now. Or maybe you are. Either way, I'm here to help you."

I was shaking my head before he finished. "You're not. You're just here to put a band-aid on all my problems and leave me here alone to stitch all the wounds shut myself. That's all I'm doing. That's all you're doing."

He sighed. And then he disappeared.

I was only alone for a second when the driver's side door opened with a creek. "Goddammit, Cas. I can't deal with your disappearing act right now."

He shoved me aside and took my spot behind the wheel. "I'd prefer it if you didn't use that word."

"Do you even know how to drive?"

"No. But I'm taking you home."

I blacked out before we started moving.


	2. Chapter 2

I forced my eyes open and when I say "forced" I mean it. My eyelids were heavy, make that my entire head. There was a pounding inside my skull that I felt the moment I was conscious. I could still taste the alcohol in the back of my throat. This wasn't the first time I'd woken up like this. I tried to sit up, but my head ached if I moved at all. The room was too bright, even though I could tell the shades were shut, even with my eyes closed.

I wasn't dead, I knew that much. I could faintly remember sitting in my car with the barrel of my gun pressed to my skin, but the rest was black. I had wanted to die more than anything. I had nothing to live for, no one to live for. We all say that at one point or another, right? "My life is meaningless, I have no purpose". But how many of us actually mean it? I could have done it, then and there, put an end to everything. So why hadn't I?

I kicked off the covers, frustrated that I was still breathing…and noticed that I wasn't wearing pants. I looked down at my underwear, confused, just as the door cracked open.

"Dean, are you awake?"

His voice was soft, but it grated against my ears.

"Go away, Cas," I groaned. He must have been the reason I was here in bed and not…wherever I'm going to go when I finally do die. I rolled over, shoving my face into the pillow, hoping to drown out all light and sound.

"I'm here to inform you that Bobby has made breakfast. Even though it's more like lunchtime."

My stomach flip-flopped at the thought of food. "No thanks."

He was quiet and then I heard the door squeaking closed. "Cas, wait." I kept my eyes closed, but I could still feel him standing there. "Do you think you could cure this killer hangover I've got? I mean, I don't know just exactly what kind of healing you angels are capable of, but right now I could really use it."

He cleared his throat and entered the room. "Actually, I'm not really capable of anything anymore."

Now he had my attention. "What do you mean?" I forced myself to sit up and look at him, as much as my head was throbbing. He moved to sit in the chair in the corner of the room, sighing. I noticed that he wasn't dressed in his normal angel attire: no trench coat, no tie. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, placing my feet on the floor, the room spinning. I sat with my head in my hands as he answered me.

"When I was brought back, I wasn't all brought back."

He stopped and I looked up. "Elaborate."

"I don't know why or how it happened. All I know is that…"He shrugged.

"What, you're not an angel anymore?" This was too much for me to believe.

He shook his head. "I just ate fourteen of the pancakes Bobby made for breakfast."

"Dammit, Cas."

He leaned forward, elbows on knees, mimicking my position. "You're angry with me."

"I'm not angry with you, it's just…you were gone. For three months. And you never thought to stop by and share this news with me?"

"I didn't want to burden you."

I brought my eyebrows together, trying to force down the feelings of total despair that I felt before I decided to load my gun with one final bullet. He was right about one thing: it would have been a burden. And I'm not sure I could have handled it, not with everything else that had happened. But how could he not tell me? "Look, Cas," I began, standing up, feeling unsteady. "We're family. You're all I got left. And no matter what it is, however big or small, you come to me."

He stood up and stared straight into my eyes. "The same goes for you."

I felt a lump form in my throat and tears well in my eyes. I cleared my throat and stared at the floor hoping he would look somewhere else. But he didn't.

"Dean, I may not be an angel anymore, but I can still help you. I can help you in better ways because now I can understand you. I'm human." There was a tiny smile pulling at the corners of his lips, like he was proud of his new humanity. Well, relatively new.

I nodded, blinking away the tears. "Then don't you ever leave me again," I said in a shaky voice, stabbing a finger at his chest.

He shook his head. "Never."


End file.
